


Winter Dance

by multiversemadness



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Fluff, Hogwarts Fourth Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 13:48:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9126475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multiversemadness/pseuds/multiversemadness
Summary: "The Triwizard Tournament actually consisted of four tasks, Harry thought, and asking Draco Malfoy to the dance was the hardest one so far."





	

When Ron asked him who was he going to the ball with, Harry lied.

“I’ve no idea” he said, but his eyes betrayed him as he gazed at Draco Malfoy. The blonde was with a loud group of slytherins, but seemed oddly distracted this morning.

“At this pace we’re going to be the only ones without partners”. Ron sounded miserable. “I did think of Hermione, you know. Didn’t have the guts to ask her, though.”

“Why the hell not?”

Ron sighed and looked up dreamingly to the enchanted cealing. “I suppose it’s hard to admit that you fancy someone who you’ve been bickering with for the last three years…”

Harry just had to laugh.

“What? I’m bloody serious!”

“I know you are. Sorry”.

He wondered if he should tell Ron about his feelings for Draco. He thought it might be the right thing to do; his friend was likely to get upset for being left out. On the other hand… Ron _hated_ Malfoy. Harry wasn’t ready to deal with his reaction.

Harry glanced at the Slytherin table again and his eyes met Draco’s for a split second. He could swear the other boy blushed as he looked away.

“Oh shit, don’t tell them what I said, alright?” Ron begged when Hermione and Ginny entered the Great Hall. “Actually, forget I ever said it”. He stuffed his mouth with mashed potatoes and stared intensely at his plate.

The girls joined them and Ginny wouldn’t stop giggling.

“What happened to her?” Harry asked.

Hermione opened a wide smile. “Neville asked her to the ball”.

Ron nearly choked on his food. “ _Who_?”

“Neville.”

“Neville Longbottom?”

“Obviously.”

“Brilliant!” said Harry.

“Mental” Ron grunted. “Now we’re officially the only blokes going alone to this stupid dance, Harry”.

 “You and Malfoy”, Ginny laughed.

Harry gaped at her. She smirked and Harry realized she _knew_.

“I can’t take all this information at once” Ron said. “I thought every girl in Slytherin was crazy about the git.”

“Well, yes. But _he_ isn’t crazy about the girls.”

Hermione must have noticed the absolute horror in Harry’s face, because she urged to change the subject.

That night, after dinner, she joined him by the fireplace.

“You look pensive.”

“Trying to figure out the egg thing”, he lied.

“Don’t try to keep secrets from me, Harry Potter. Ron said you don’t have anyone in mind to take to the ball. I know you have.”

He knew there was no use in denying it now. There was no need to say it out loud either. It was blatant. It had been blatant for a long time.

“He would never say yes.”

Hermione sighed, as she did every time the boys missed something she’d figured out ages ago.

“Harry. As much as I hate to admit it, Malfoy is like prince charming. He could’ve easily found a partner by now. Why do you think he hasn’t asked anyone yet?”

The realization filled Harry with joy. Hermione smiled.

“Go for it”.

*

The Triwizard Tournament actually consisted of _four_ tasks, Harry thought, and asking Draco Malfoy to the dance was the hardest one so far.

It was almost impossible to find the slytherin alone, his bodyguards always surrounding him. But this time they both stayed behind after Potions class. Harry saw the opportunity and figured it might be his only chance.

He took an unnecessary amount of time to clean his cauldron, while trying to work up the courage to approach the boy. Snape’s silent presence made everything even more uncomfortable and surreal.

Draco finished packing up his things and looked nervously at him before leaving the room. Harry felt his stomach do a somersault.

“Mr. Potter, do I need to show you the way out?” the professor’s voice brought him back to reality. He muttered something that sounded like an apology and walked away.

Draco waited for him in the corridor.

“Did you like the badges, Potter?” he teased, but didn’t seem as confident as he usually was. “I made them myself, you know.”

Harry couldn’t think of a comeback. He took a few cautious steps towards Draco, never breaking eye contact. His heart raced faster than it did when he learned he would have to face a dragon.

“Come on”, the blonde said. “Say something witty so I can snap back.”

“You’re pathetic, Malfoy.”

Draco grinned and closed the distance between them.

“You can do better than that, but I’ll take it”. He reached for Harry’s hand and gently stroked it with his thumb. His palm was sweaty. “I think you know…” he began. “I mean, you’re stupid, but not _that_ stupid, so you must know…”

“Malfoy.”

“Yes?”

“Go to the sodding ball with me.”

For a moment that seemed to last ages, they simply stared at each other in silence, their faces so close they could lean in for a kiss. Then Draco suddenly stepped away and let go of Harry’s hand, as if realizing just now that he’d been holding it. He cleared his throat and returned to his usual arrogant self. It was like watching an actor put on a mask.

Harry wondered if Draco Malfoy ever got tired of acting.

“ _Fine_ , Potter, I’ll go to the sodding ball with you”. He examined Harry’s untidy clothes. “Please wear something decent. I don’t want to be seen with some ragged idiot.”

“I will.”

“And do something about your hair.”

“Can’t promise that.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

“Can you even dance?”

“Not at all.”

“Damn, Potter. What _can_ you do?”

Harry shrugged.

“Alright”, Draco sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to lead you, then.”

“That should work.”

This was their first amiable conversation since day one, when Malfoy had offered to be Harry’s friend. Now they were both able to comprehend that what they wanted from each other wasn’t friendship, but something entirely different. Something difficult to put into words.

Draco seemed to read his thoughts, and his mouth tilted in subtle smile. He nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, I hope that works”.

*

Harry was so focused trying not to glance at Draco every five seconds, he didn’t pay much attention to what Moody was saying. His eyes were fixed on the chalkboard, when something came flying and landed on his desk.

It was a paper folding of a little bird, very well done and detailed. He opened it, aware that Hermione and Ron watched him curiously.

The note read “ _Meet me at Quidditch pitch, 5pm_ ”, accompanied by an animated drawing of Harry flying on a broomstick. A beautiful calligraphy and a fairly good drawing. He didn’t need a signature to know it was Draco’s.

“Are you seeing someone?” Ron frowned.

“Um, not exactly… I mean, er...”

“He found a partner to the dance”, Hermione told.

“Way to go, mate! Who is she?”

Harry looked terrified at Hermione. She shrugged.

“He’ll find out eventually.”

“Well, it’s- it’s actually a lad.”

For Harry’s astonishment, Ron didn’t seem surprised at all.

“Oh. I didn’t know you liked boys. So who is he?”

 _That_ was a question he didn’t want to answer.

“Later”, he said, and Ron agreed.

There was no one at the Quidditch pitch when Harry got there. He worried Malfoy might be playing tricks on him. He imagined a group of slytherins coming out to point and mock at Harry, Draco laughing with them.

The anxiety was nearly consuming him when the boy appeared. He sat on the bench beside Harry, making sure to leave some distance between them.

“I’m late”, he said.

“Yeah.”

There was nothing but awkward silence for a couple of minutes. Certainly Draco regretted saying yes and called Harry here to dump him. Except he could have done it through the note he sent in class. Wait, did Draco actually care enough about Harry’s feelings to decline the invitation in person?

“Potter” said the slytherin. “I wasn’t exactly rooting for you.”

“Really? The badges saying _Potter stinks_ didn’t make that very clear.”

“Piss off. I’m trying to say something meaningful here.”

Oh.

“So. I wasn’t rooting for you, _as you well know_ , but after the first task… Everyone did great, to be honest, but you – you set the bar pretty high. You’re not a bad flyer. I’d like to see you face off Krum.”

Harry chuckled. “Gryffindor against the Bulgarian National team.”

He was completely taken aback by the unexpected compliment, but wasn’t going to let it show. He decided he would try and keep his composure and remain neutral until the other made his intentions clear.

Draco moved closer.

“I didn’t think you’d last five minutes in this tournament.”

Malfoy had said those exact words before. But now, rather than insulting, he sounded genuinely worried. Harry dared to look directly at him. His eyes were teary; his hair, unusually unkempt. Without thinking, Harry kindly put away a strand that fell on his forehead.

“I was sure you’d die”, Draco whispered.

“Well, I didn’t.”

“I can see that”. He smiled weakly. “What a loss it would be to the Wizarding World if Saint Potter died, right?” He probably meant to sound sarcastic, but his voice was shaky. Harry finally reckoned the boy had no mischievous reasons behind this meeting – this was really his way of apologizing.

Draco stood up and stretched.

“Ok, then. Now that we came to the conclusion that you aren’t dead, what about a race?”

“What?”

“A race, Potter. As in two people competing to see who gets somewhere first. Come on, let’s get our broomsticks.”

They took some turns around the pitch, the Firebolt always ahead, until Draco got a boost from a strong draught and passed Harry. He looked back and smirked before firing off the pitch as fast as his broom allowed. Harry pointed up and rocketed to the sky. From up there, he saw the slytherin flying above the Forbidden Forest, his hair reflecting the last rays of sunshine like a golden snitch. Harry dived almost vertically, though keeping absolute control of the broom the entire time. He only lifted when he got dangerously close to the ground, then headed to the forest too, adrenaline having taken over his body.

It wasn’t hard to catch up with Draco. They slowed down and flew parallel to each other. Harry was delighted with the wind caressing his face –  which he always thought to be the best thing in the world – but even more delighted with the sight of Draco Malfoy flying blissfully beside him.

*

Malfoy was too proud to admit he had feelings of any sort, but one day he disclosed he didn’t mind being seen with Harry. After all, if they were to start spending time together, people would inevitably start noticing.

“Are you serious?” Harry asked.

“Yes, there’s no point in hiding. I mean, it’s a good thing, isn’t it? You and me… on good terms.”

Good terms. That was the closest he would ever get to a love confession. It was also all the reassurance Harry needed.

“I have to tell Ron before anything.”

“What? Why?”

“He’s my best friend, Malfoy, and he fucking despises you. He should hear it from me first.”

“Right”, Draco scorned. “Go ask for Weasley’s blessing.”

Harry was more scared of his friend’s reaction than anything. Hermione told him repeatedly that it would be fine; their friendship was too valuable to Ron for him to throw it away like that. “Worst case scenario, he’ll stop talking to you for a few weeks again”, she said, certain that she was being helpful. Ginny guaranteed Ron wasn’t capable of cursing Draco, so at least Harry didn’t have to worry about _that_. He wished the girls would stop trying to cheer him up.

So when he found himself alone with Ron in their dormitory that night, he spat it out.

“I’m taking Draco Malfoy to the ball”, he said in one breath.

Ron stared at Harry like he was a patient from St. Mungos’ psych ward on the loose.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Maybe. I like him, Ron. For real. I’ve felt this way for a while now.”

A long silence followed. Harry thought Ron was going to be sick by the look on his face.

“You _like_ Malfoy”, he echoed.

Harry nodded.

Ron took a deep breath.

“Okay”, he said.

“Okay?”

“If he’s good enough for you, then I suppose I could… tolerate him. Just don’t expect me to be friends with him or anything.”

Harry pulled Ron into a hug. “You’re bloody brilliant!”

“Don’t mention it”, the boy said awkwardly. “Really. Don’t ever mention it.”

*

Sometimes they went together to the library, where Harry found out Draco enjoyed reading nearly as much as Hermione. He would mostly sweep the bookshelves looking for good fiction and poetry, but he was also very interested in old volumes on potions, alchemy and even muggle science.

They once met at the Astronomy Tower and Draco giddily showed Harry all the constellations he knew. Filch almost caught them that night; Harry ended up using the Marauder’s Map to find a safe escape route. Draco was fascinated by the object and almost died of laughter when Harry pointed Madame Maxime in Hagrid’s hut.

When the lake froze, Draco conjured blades for their shoes and tried to teach Harry how to ice skate. He wasn’t very good at it himself, so they both just kept falling all the time, sometimes on top of each other – which was awkward at first, until they started doing it on purpose.

The weekend before the ball, they visited Hogsmeade.

Draco took him to his favorite café, a small shop that Harry never noticed before, and ordered fancy drinks for them. Harry preferred black coffee, but the latte wasn’t so bad.

“I never imagined you were this kind of person”, Harry said.

Draco frowned. “What kind of person?”

“You know. Poetry reader. Coffee shop goer.”

“I’m not some cold, insensitive arsehole. I like nice things”, he said, with a tone of superiority that suggested Harry wasn’t capable of appreciating such sophisticated things the way he did.

Later, the gryffindor challenged the other to a drinking game at the Three Broomsticks. Draco was a lightweight and got way too dizzy with only one glass of firewhiskey. He was angry when Harry started laughing at him, but by the time they left the bar he was hugging the boy and talking about what beautiful eyes he had, how brave he was for defeating a dragon, Godric Gryffindor would be so proud of him, he truly deserved his fame, though Draco was jealous of him for it, but no, really, he deserved everything.

None of that meant that the bickering stopped, though, not at all. Malfoy was still rude and bitchy, and Harry was still a well of sarcasm. However, he enjoyed learning all those little things about Draco so much, he could swear he’d never been happier in his entire life. In an incredibly short amount of time, the hostility had turned into a friendly rivalry.

 _All because of a school dance_ , Harry thought, amused.

*

Harry stood in line behind the three other champions, as McGonagall had positioned them, waiting to enter the Great Hall and start the dance. He was already on edge knowing that he would have to _dance_ in front of hundreds of people, but the fact that Draco was late – again – made him even more nervous.

He looked around once again, and spotted his partner at last. He stood by the staircase, his hair styled in a most elegant way, wearing a perfectly tailored navy blue suit with an emerald tie that shouldn’t match, but somehow it did. It completely outshined Harry’s plain black robes, but it didn’t matter, for all he could think of was how strikingly beautiful Draco Malfoy looked tonight.

The anxiety disappeared. Draco was there and he was going to lead Harry. All eyes would be on them but they wouldn’t even notice – they’d be too busy being happy to pay attention to anything else.

Draco gave him the most angelic smile and, probably noticing that Harry’s knees were too weak for him to move, walked up to him.

“I told you to wear something decent”, he teased, “but this will do.”

“You look good in blue, Malfoy. Should be in Ravenclaw.”

“Why must you insult me like this?” he sighed.

Harry simply couldn’t resist. He threw himself in the boy’s arm and kissed him passionately, marveled by the feeling of those soft lips against his own. He felt firm hands around his waist pulling him closer, then parted his lips, slowly sliding his tongue to meet Draco’s. He tasted as sweet as dreams.

He didn’t know how long the kiss lasted, but when they finally let go of each other, Malfoy had swollen red lips and rosy cheeks.

Despite the heavy snow falling outside, Harry never felt warmer. He offered his arm to a flustered Draco.

“Shall we?”

The doors opened and they walked into the Great Hall.

**Author's Note:**

> This was so fun to write! I'll probably come up with more Drarry soon. :3


End file.
